


goatflowers; mustard; sage; an eyeball

by decidueye, keptein



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Genderqueer Character, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Potions, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 18:12:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7768096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decidueye/pseuds/decidueye, https://archiveofourown.org/users/keptein/pseuds/keptein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi Keiji was a potion seller.</p>
            </blockquote>





	goatflowers; mustard; sage; an eyeball

**Author's Note:**

> **BOYO!!!!** before you read any of this, make sure to watch [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R_FQU4KzN7A). it's an essential part of every person's popcultural education, and relatively important for this fic.
> 
> can you believe i was sober when i convinced bishop to write this with me?
> 
> akaashi is dmab nb with they/them pronouns, bokuto is a trans guy. woop.

Akaashi Keiji was a potion seller. It was a humble title, and so was the pay. They mainly made their living by making remedies and fertility potions for the small village they lived in. They stayed away from offensive potions - not because they weren’t adept at it, but rather because they were. Too adept, in fact. Their potions for battle had proven lethal for everyone involved - indeed, the lucky ones had been those who were only driven mad after their masterful victory over their foe.

Keiji did not make potions for battle anymore, even though they were almost certain they had finally figured out how to make the potion safe for the drinker. The risk was too great, and they dared not subject themselves, nor anyone else, to unnecessary and possibly fatal experiments.

Clearly, no one had told all this to the knight who was currently standing in Keiji’s shop, begging for a potion for battle.

“I’ve heard you’re the best, and I need the best!”

“You must be mistaken,” Keiji said, not as calmly as they wished as their head started to throb. “Now please leave. You’re scaring the other customers.” It was true. Rika’s son had hidden in the corner of the shop, watching the display with wide eyes.

“Not until you sell me a potion,” the man said defiantly.

“Traveller -”

“I am a knight!”

“ _ Ser knight _ ,” Keiji said sternly. “My potions are too strong for you.”

“No such thing!” the knight cried. “I have withstood the harshest of trials, the toughest of tribulations - I promise you, potion seller, no potion is too strong for me. But my foe might be, and that is why I need your potion!”

“My potions are too strong,” Keiji said again, rubbing at their temple with two fingers. “Kindly leave, or I will escort you out myself.”

The knight’s chest puffed up, inhaling deeply as if to once again reprise his plea, but then he slumped instead, wilting like a flower not tended to. “ _ Please _ . I beg of you. Without it, I will surely die. Will you not give me the one chance I have at survival?”

Keiji paused, falling quiet as they thought. The knight spoke the truth - his quivering lip and bright, wet eyes were no fabrication, too emasculating to be false. And if he were, as he said, to die without the potion, the slim possibility Keiji offered him of living on could not be anything more than a base kindness, a necessary acquiescement from someone in their position. “Very well,” they said finally.

The knight blinked in disbelief and then straightened, a bright smile spreading on his face. “Are you certain?”

Keiji raised their eyebrows. “Do you wish to dissuade me now?”

“No, no,” the knight hastened to explain, looking worried. “I merely wanted to assure myself of your dedication.”

“I do not speak lightly,” Keiji said, “especially not of these matters.”

“We are truly in agreement, then,” the knight said, smile brightening. “How long will you need?”

“A week.”

“Excellent! I can pay generously - right now, if you’d like.”

“Not until it is made,” Keiji said. “It is the village custom.”

“Very well!” said the knight happily. “I will stay here until it is done, then. Please feel free to call upon me if I can offer any help at all!”

“I will,” Keiji said dryly.

“Oh - before I leave, my name is ser Bokuto Koutarou.” He sketched a bow, still grinning. “What do you go by, potion seller?”

“Akaashi Keiji.”

“Akaashi,” said ser Bokuto, slow like he could taste it. “I am at your beck and call.”

“Excellent,” Keiji said, not reacting to the roguish smirk on ser Bokuto’s face. “Now, if you’d please let me see to my other customers…?”

“Certainly!” said ser Bokuto and left, but his presence lingered in the shop long after he was gone.

**

Keiji heard ser Bokuto before they saw him, travelling up the hill towards their shop. There was nowhere for them to hide - they made their potions on the front porch in plain sight of passers-by, unfortunately not secluded by any shrubbery.

“Akaashi! Hey, hey,” the knight from the previous day ran towards their doorstep, stopping at the foot of the porch, “how’s the potion coming along?”

Keiji blanched. “I have not called upon you for assistance, ser Bokuto.”

“I thought now that we are friends, I would save you the trouble of asking for me.”

Keiji unlocked the door of their shop and stepped inside, Bokuto following without invitation. They set the herbs they’d been preparing down on the side table, and Ser Bokuto bounded up the steps, navigating gracelessly around the cauldron as he inspected the space with renewed vigour.

“We’ve only met once…” Keiji began, but Bokuto was already looking around, picking up ingredients and examining them curiously. “You could put that down, to start with.”

Bokuto immediately dropped what he was holding, regarding Keiji with a crestfallen expression. He clearly wanted to help, and Keiji didn’t want him hovering if he was going to be there for the entire week. Bokuto watched as Keiji looked around, gesturing towards their herb garden.

“It would help if you could pick the ginger for me - I have someone coming for a cold remedy in the evening and I’m running low.”

Bokuto leapt into action at the word ‘help’, almost knocking over one of the cauldrons again, and Keiji’s brow pinched into a frown. 

Bokuto chatted whilst he worked, calling out so that Keiji could hear him and telling them stories about the capital, occasionally punctuated with questions about Keiji’s business. Keiji learned to tune him out fairly quickly, though, and found it somewhat relaxing to have some background noise whilst they worked, answering any questions with noncommittal hums. Bokuto showed no signs of leaving even after he’d finished picking the ginger, and Keiji set him to work chopping it whilst they prepared the base for a cold remedy.

“I thought you didn’t sell potions to humans?” Bokuto asked, leaning over the table. He was fairly skilled with a knife, and restlessly spun the blade across his knuckles when he wasn’t working. It made Keiji nervous.

“This is medicine, not a potion,” Keiji countered, focusing on the cauldron so that they didn’t have to worry about Bokuto slicing his fingers open, “and I’m not selling it, really - I trade with the villagers for supplies.”

“Oh?” Bokuto asked, and there was something in his tone that made Keiji look up.

“What is it?”

“A bunch of the guys back home warned me about you before I came here, that’s all. They said you were pretty fearsome, so I didn’t really picture you as the charitable type.”

“It’s not charity,” Keiji said simply, “it’s bartering. And it’s useful to maintain good relations here.”

“I understand,” Bokuto said, but his tone was smug, a little teasing, and Keiji could feel a headache building in their temples. They decided not to reply, and Bokuto dropped the subject after a few moments, talking instead about one of his earlier quests.

When Rika arrived to collect the remedy, Keiji noticed that her son was decidedly absent. She eyed Bokuto nervously, but before Keiji could try and reassure her he had already leapt down the steps, grasping one of Rika’s hands and bowing low.

“You were here yesterday, right? Akaashi told me I was making a scene… Sorry if I frightened you!”

Keiji felt as taken aback as Rika looked. She mumbled a soft “it’s alright…” and Bokuto beamed, shaking the hand he’d been holding gently.

“Great! It’s nice to meet you. I’m Ser Bokuto, and seeing as I’m going to be here for a while I’d like to know if there’s anything around the village I can help with!”

Keiji barely had time to trade the remedy he’d bottled for Rika’s sheepskin before Bokuto had linked his arm in hers and pulled her down the hill, already talking about repairs on the school fence.

They sighed. At least this way Bokuto would be out of their hair.

**

“Who’s that handsome fellow camping out by the lake?” Haru rapped his knuckles on Keiji’s counter, smiling genially when Keiji gave him a dark look.

“The knight is staying in town until his potion is done.”

“Do you know him?” Haru asked, and Keiji shook their head, handing him the bottle.

“He is from the capital,” they said shortly.

Haru laughed. “Well,” he said, making an exaggerated gesture of looking towards the lake through Keiji’s window, “he sure doesn’t act like capital folk.”

Keiji didn’t reply, busying themselves with tidying their counter, but it did nothing to deter Haru, who clearly had more thoughts on this bothersome stranger.

“The kids took to him too,” he said. “Len was talking my head off about him this morning.”

Keiji looked up briefly at Haru, who smiled back at them. “I’m sure,” they said dryly. "Was there anything else?" 

"No," Haru said cheerfully. "Just trying to exchange a bit of gossip."

"I keep a strict no-gossip policy," Keiji said.

"Even when it comes to knights you clearly have at your disposal?"

"Especially then," they said, and dismissed Haru by turning around and sorting the books behind them.

"Thank you for the medicine," Haru said, sobering up and lifting said bottle in gratitude.

Keiji nodded at him over his shoulder. "It's no trouble," he said. "Give my regards to Len."

Haru nodded. "His spirits are lifted," he said. "The good ser was kind."

"I'm glad," Keiji said, not unkindly. The door shut quietly behind Haru. As soon as they were alone, Keiji permitted themselves a wander over to their window, looking down at the small tent by the lake, and the man doing easy stretches in the sun next to it. Kind, Haru had called him. Keiji was not surprised.

**

"Are you sure I can't do anything?"

Keiji sighed; this was the fifth time Bokuto had offered to help, and after almost dropping a flask when Keiji had asked him to tidy the shelves, Keiji hadn't had anything to ask of him besides 'stay out of my way'. Bokuto had bragged about the save for five minutes, and then begun pestering the customers with small talk and ameteur advice.

At least, it felt like pestering to Keiji, but the customers didn't seem to mind it. Keiji watched people they had carefully catered a rapport with blush and laugh easily at Bokuto's friendly conversation, perturbed that the village had taken to him so quickly.

Now, Bokuto was leaning over the counter, eager to assist, and Keiji found themselves caving to Bokuto's sincerity - and a burning desire to have the shop to themselves.

"I'm in need of more firewood," they said eventually, running through their internal list of tasks, "so you could probably chop some."

"Great!" Bokuto slammed his fist on the table. "I'll get right on it."

"The stocks and axe are out back..." Keji called as Bokuto left the shop, receiving an over-the-shoulder chirp of acknowledgement in return.

Once Bokuto had left, Keiji relished the opportunity to work in silence for a while. The sun shone brightly through the window, making them squint, and when they moved to draw the blind, they caught a glimpse of Bokuto at the foot of the garden. The axe was dangled loosely in one hand as he stretched the other arm high above his head, the pile of chopped wood beside him already growing substantially.

The morning passed fairly slowly, and Keiji served their last customer around an hour after noon. They moved to the kitchen, ladling the broth they had prepared that morning into a bowl, and then walked outside, grabbing a hat to protect their eyes from the sun.

Bokuto was still working. He didn’t seem to notice Keiji as they perched on the steps of the front porch, and he was frowning in concentration with each swing of the axe. Keiji felt a pang of guilt; even though Bokuto had been so eager to help, Keiji wasn’t actually paying him anything for working so hard in this heat. There wasn’t enough profit for Keiji to offer him a wage, but they could at least feed him.

“Do you want lunch?” their asked, and Bokuto started, turning to look at Keiji with a quick, relieved sigh. “There’s broth in the kitchen, I could fetch you a bowl.”

“It’s fine,” Bokuto replied, waving dismissively. He was still holding the axe, and Keiji looked on, worried. “I’m almost done! I’ll take some after, though, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.” The broth would keep, and Keiji felt a little more at ease now that they had offered. They blew on their bowl to cool it, and Bokuto resumed chopping would, huffing lightly in the midday heat.

Bokuto’s timing was rhythmical, and Keiji found themselves absently watching him as they ate. The muscles in Bokuto’s forearms tensed and relaxed with each movement, and Keiji’s gaze travelled along the length of tanned skin until Bokuto paused, coming to rest with a hand on his hip.

“Nice hat,” Bokuto said, and Keiji dragged their eyes upwards to settle on Bokuto’s grin. The hat had been a thank you gift from the children at the school - it was pointed, because they were a ‘witch’ - and they tugged at the wide brim sullenly. Bokuto’s laughing eyes made Keiji feel exposed.

“It’s bright,” they answered eventually, and Bokuto’s smile only widened in response. “I burn easily.”

“Hey, like I said, I like it,” Bokuto told him, tugging on the hem of his tunic. It  looked uncomfortable, damp with sweat, and Keiji’s jaw slackened when Bokuto pulled the hem up to wipe his face, revealing a toned chest, only a shade paler than his arms.

Bokuto let his tunic fall back down, raising his eyebrows, and Keiji wished they had been outside long enough to blame the heat they could feel in their cheeks on the sun.

“It’s hot.” Bokuto’s voice pitched upwards, clearly amused.

“So it is…” Keiji drew out their reply, stalling when Bokuto’s hands reached over his head, pulling at the back of his shirt so that he could remove it.

This was unfair.

Bokuto turned his back on Keiji, humming as he reached to pick up the axe. When Bokuto raised his arms his shoulders drew together, and Keiji finally began to understand Bokuto’s strength as a knight. The profession had seemed unfitting on such an open and vulnerable man before, but this...this made sense.

Keiji’s mouth felt dry, and they could barely take in the span of Bokuto’s shoulders. Their lunch bowl remained loose in their hands, forgotten.

Keiji wasn’t really aware of exactly when Bokuto had finished with the wood until he was standing over them, hands on his hips and beaming smugly. Keiji’s eyes were level with Bokuto’s upper torso, and they traced the definition of the muscle with their gaze, instinctively gripping the bowl more tightly as they breathed in the smell of salt and sweat.

“In the kitchen, you said?” Bokuto asked, and Keiji swallowed twice.

“Put a shirt on before you go in there.” They managed to keep their tone neutral, but Bokuto wasn’t fooled; his expression didn’t falter.

“Why’s that, then?”

“It’s...unsanitary.”

Bokuto laughed, and the sound echoed in Keiji’s ears even as Bokuto vanished into the shop. He was back a minute later, and placed his own bowl on the step beside Keiji, going to fetch his tunic and pulling it over his head before coming to sit down.

“This is disgusting,” he said, wrinkling his nose, and Keiji snorted.

“Well, so are you.”

Bokuto looked at them with wide eyes, and Keiji bit their lip, startled at the ease with which the retort had come out. Bokuto laughed again and slapped Keiji on the back, making them jerk.

“You’re funny,” he commented, starting to eat, and Keiji hummed, finishing their meal in silence.

**

Keiji was left mostly alone after that, to their surprise. Over the following days, Bokuto would come in once a day at most, though those brief visits would more than make up for his absence in the sheer volume of the man. The potion he had badgered Keiji into making was still bubbling in the back of their shop, and they tended to it occasionally. It was due the next batch of ingredients, but they had run out of goatflower - they could go retrieve it themselves, but it was a hassle, especially as they had such an eager handyman at their disposal.

They put the sign on the door saying they were momentarily unavailable, grabbed their pointy hat and headed towards the centre of the village, sure that they would find ser Bokuto somewhere surrounded by hordes of people. On the way, they spotted Rika, who waved them over.

“Our dear potion seller, out of their shop this early?” she asked, smiling.

“I am looking for the knight,” Keiji explained, suddenly embarrassed to acknowledge any part of their relationship with Bokuto. “I have ingredients that need to be fetched.”

“Oh,” she said, and squinted up at the sun, her smile growing brighter. “He’ll still be at the school at this hour - I’m sure you can go interrupt.”

“Thank you,” Keiji said, and walked to the school.

The school was a modest building, near the marketplace where travelling salesmen occasionally settled for a week or two. Keiji could hear the deep timbre of Bokuto’s voice as they neared, and they took off their hat as they opened the door quietly, ready to spectate until Bokuto was finished.

“- and then you bring it back!” Bokuto said. He stood at the head of the room, looking out at the kids, who were all facing each other in pairs of two. Some of them were panting, others flushed with exertion, and one young boy still had tear tracks shining on his cheeks, but he was smiling wide. “Remember, keeping your balance is the most important part. You don’t want to fall and give your opponent the momentum!”

“Yes, ser!” the children shouted.

Bokuto grinned at them and gestured for them all to sit down - Keiji would expect a knight of his stature to hesitate before sitting down at the dusty school floor, but Bokuto did no such thing, joining the children as soon as they were settled. The children flocked around him, waddling over on their knees to throw their arms around his waist.

“Tell a story,” said one girl firmly - a fisher’s daughter, Keiji knew, though they didn’t remember her name.

“I’m going to,” Bokuto told her, patting her head briefly, and then he looked up and saw Keiji, expression lighting up further. “Oh, hello, Akaashi! I’m almost done, do you need anything?”

“I can wait,” Keiji said. At their voice, some of the kids’ heads shot up, giving them wide-eyed looks and huddling closer to Bokuto.

“It’s the witch,” a young boy whispered in Bokuto’s ear, and he laughed.

“Akaashi’s no witch,” he said, winking in Keiji’s direction. “Just a bewitching potion maker.”

“Bewitching,” the young boy repeated, frowning with confusion.

Keiji could feel the back of their neck heating, and they coughed, looking at the boy instead of meeting Bokuto’s knowing gaze. “It means interesting,” they said.

“Very interesting,” Bokuto said. When Keiji met they eyes, they were dark with humour, and he was smirking at them from across the room.

The boy nodded, clearly already having moved on from his puzzlement, and Bokuto finally looked away, filled with innocent cheer once again.

“Story time,” the fisher’s daughter said again, and several of her classmates chimed in.

“Alright,” Bokuto said - he settled properly, legs crossed, and with one of the smallest children in his lap. “You wanna hear about the capital, like last time?”

“Yes!” exclaimed the fisher’s daughter, grinning.

Keiji looked on as Bokuto started his story of what he called a normal day in the capital, filled with errands and busywork. The capital was demanding, the knight explained, but he enjoyed the noise, and there was always something to do.

“Are there lots of people?” one of the kids asked.

“Lots,” Bokuto said gravely. “More than you can count on your fingers and your toes combined!”

The child gasped. “That’s a lot,” she said quietly.

Bokuto nodded. “There’s always someone new to meet,” he said. “I escort visitors from foreign lands around the city and make sure they stay protected.”

“Where are foreign lands?” someone asked, and Bokuto launched into another explanation, which Keiji could tell was clearly exaggerated to keep the attention of the children. No land would have hot, desolate sands that stretched as far as the eye could see, where the mind conjured fantasies that could not be touched.

If Bokuto believed so, Keiji decided, there were probably some errant potions in the water in the capital.

Eventually, ser Bokuto finished his storytelling, and he stood up while the children still clung to his sturdy figure. “I have to see what the witch wants now,” he told them, and Keiji huffed. The pointed hat was in their hands, not on their head, or they were sure Bokuto would have flicked it up as he approached.

Bokuto finally untangled himself from the children, who dispersed in every direction as soon as they got out of the school building, and he walked to stand next to Keiji, sighing. “I apologise for the wait,” he said.

“It wasn’t urgent,” Keiji said. “Your potion requires a few goatflowers, and I have none. Could you go fetch some from the cliffside in the forest?”

“Of course,” said Bokuto. He looked hopeful. “Was there anything else?”

“No,” Keiji said, and Bokuto’s hair seemed to droop with him, giving him a dejected air. “Thank you,” they tried.

“Anytime,” Bokuto said, straightening his back once more and giving them a smile. “I’ll return with your flower, just point me in the right direction.”

Keiji gestured to the west of the village, where a thick forest surrounded a mountain. “It should only take you an hour or so,” they said. “I will be at the shop.”

Bokuto nodded and set off, smiling brightly at Keiji once more. Keiji stood and watched him go before they too started walking, intending to clean the shop before Bokuto inevitably broke something upon his visit.

They had only just put the broom back behind the counter when heavy steps at their door announced Bokuto’s entrance, seconds before the door banged open and the man himself walked in. “I have your flower!” he said loudly, grinning. He had small cuts on his face and on the fist he so eagerly stretched out, a bouquet of grey goatflowers clutched in it, but did not otherwise seem worse for wear.

“Thank you,” Keiji said, and took the flowers from him. “What happened?”

“I fell into a thorned bush,” Bokuto said sheepishly, and he looked so apologetic Keiji couldn’t help their smile.

“You needn’t have hurried,” they said.

Bokuto shrugged his shoulders and looked at them. “I wanted to,” he said. His eyes were golden, gleaming with sudden intensity, and Keiji held his gaze for only a second before they looked away.

“Very well,” they said, after they had regained their composure. “Again, thank you. Your potion will be ready in three days.”

“Great!” Bokuto said enthuastically. He scrubbed at a cut on his cheek. “Do you need me to do anything else? Fetch anything else?”

“No,” Keiji said. “I have everything else in stock.”

Bokuto slumped a little, but Keiji refrained from commenting, and he quickly straightened again. “I’ll be at the school, if you do need any more help,” he said.

Keiji nodded, and Bokuto took his leave. As the door slammed behind him, a potion placed precariously on a shelf fell to the floor and broke, black, viscous liquid spreading over the floor. Keiji sighed, but even now, they could not say they had minded Bokuto’s visit. There was something intriguing about the knight, and though Keiji hesitated to admit they looked forward to their conversations, they would not lie - the wildly different moods of ser Bokuto, coupled with his infectious energy, made him a very interesting man.

**

Midnight burnings were one of Keiji’s favourite parts of potion making. They didn’t get to do them very often - there were very few potions which required it - but there was something distinctly special about travelling to the edge of the forest at high moon. Keiji poked at the fire they’d been cultivating with a stick, breathing in the scent of smoke and watching the embers float into the air. It was almost time.

A branch snapped behind them, and Keiji jerked their head in surprise, turning to see Bokuto standing on the path. In the dark, his bright hair stood out all the more, and Keiji thought he looked a little ethereal.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto called, waving. He took Keiji’s answering wave as an invitation to come over, and Keiji didn’t mind as much as they thought they might. “What are you doing?”

“This is what I needed the flower for,” Keiji explained, “It has to be done at a specific time.”

“Sounds difficult,” Bokuto said, dropping to his knees beside Keiji. He fidgeted until he was sat on his backside, feet stretched out in front of him, toes dangerously close to the fire. “Can I watch?”

“...I don’t see why not,” Keiji replied after a moment, and Bokuto visibly brightened. His moods seemed so easily changed, and Keiji found themselves wanting to learn more about how he worked.

“Awesome,” Bokuto said, and Keiji turned back to their work.

“I have to wait until the stars line up,” they explained, passing Bokuto the chart they had been using, “then I can mix the flower pollen with the rest of the potion.”

“In there, right?” Bokuto asked, gesturing to the pot which hung over the fire, and Keiji nodded. All of the ingredients were prepared, and it was just a matter of waiting now. Bokuto stared at the fire for a while, then looked up at the sky, and then back down at Keiji.

“So when do you do it?” he asked. Keiji’s exasperated sigh came out more like a laugh.

“Soon,” they replied. Bokuto hummed in acknowledgement, and then kept humming, clearly uncomfortable with the silence. 

It was another few minutes before Keiji could do anything, and Bokuto seemed to struggle with the wait. He waved his feet, pausing in his humming every so often and taking in a breath as though to say something. Keiji waited expectantly, but every time Bokuto seemed to change his mind.

A cloud passed over the moon, and Keiji was relieved to see that they could finally complete their task. They picked up the pestle containing the ground anther of the goatflower and stood over the potion. At his side, Bokuto watched with rapt attention as Keiji carefully poured the ground potion into the pot. For a second, the liquid reflected the stars, perfectly aligned with the chart they had been using. Then there was a puff of deep red smoke, and the potion clouded over.

“Woah,” Bokuto said, “that was pretty. What now?”

“Now it just has to simmer,” Keiji replied, coming back to sit beside Bokuto. 

“I see. Mind if I sit with you?”

Keiji looked at Bokuto, a little surprised. It wasn’t as though they had been great company so far. “I thought you were walking?”

“I was, but only because I was bored and it was too late to hang around the tent by myself. Sitting with you is nicer,” Bokuto propped himself back on his elbows, turning his head towards the sky, “especially when it’s such a nice night.”

“Mm,” Keiji hummed in response. Nights like this weren’t rare in the village, but it was a little warmer than usual. “I’ve heard it’s harder to see the sky in the capital.”

“Have you ever been?”

“A few times, but never for long.”

“Really?” Bokuto asked, surprised,.“I would have thought you’d be there all the time, you know. You could make a fortune selling your potions at the marketplace on Saturdays…”

“That’s never really concerned me,” Keiji said. “Besides, I couldn’t sell my potions. They’re too -”

“Strong, I know, I know.” Bokuto waved them off with a laugh, and Keiji was struck by his reaction, so different from the first day they’d met. “Why have you been, then, if not to turn a profit?”

“I served as an apprentice in an apothecary during my teenage years,” Keiji explained. “The owner hated the capital, and so whenever she needed some ingredients we couldn’t gather naturally, she’d send me there. I’d usually only spend an hour at the market and leave, though. I never stayed overnight.”

“Aw, you’ve been missing out. It’s hard to see the sky at night because the whole city is lit up by torches. I get restless at night sometimes, and whenever I go on a walk like this there’s always something going on, you know? There are no quiet spaces. It’s not like here at all.”

Bokuto continued to look at the sky as he spoke, a wistfulness in his tone, and Keiji found themselves smiling. Keiji remembered their experiences of the capital during the day: the city was always so vibrant, full of people and conversation. They had always kept their head down and their bag to their chest when making their way through the busy streets. They thought back, trying to recall if they had ever heard the sound of raucous laughter or caught a glimpse of a knight with black and white hair.

“It sounds like the city suits you,” they said. Bokuto looked at them sharply.

“You think?”

“The energy you’re describing. It’s very reminiscent of yourself, ser Bokuto.”

There was a long pause, and Keiji tried to decipher the glint in Bokuto’s eyes. His stare was intense; Keiji wondered if there was anything Bokuto did by halves, and they shivered under the attention.

The movement made Bokuto jerk, and he sat up, shuffling closer to Keiji.

“Are you cold? We should get closer to the fire.”

“Not too close - “ Keiji began, but then Bokuto’s arm was around his shoulder, ushering them forward, and Keiji’s protests died on their lips. Even when they’d moved, Bokuto didn’t release his hold on Keiji, and Keiji looked up to try and read Bokuto’s expression.

Bokuto was staring deliberately into the fire, avoiding any chance of eye contact. The flames reflected in his eyes, highlighting flecks of amber in his irises. His jaw was set firmly, as though waiting for Keiji to object.

Keiji relaxed their shoulders, leaning into the crook of Bokuto’s arms. There was still a while before the potion would be ready, and it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy the moment while it lasted.

**

The village took to ser Bokuto like a duck to water. Keiji saw him in constant interaction, whether it was lighthearted bargaining with the merchants at the market or standing in Keiji’s own backyard and chatting to passersby while leaning idly on Keiji’s axe, firewood forgotten behind him. Keiji appreciated his help, and there was no problem with amicability, but they felt like the only one who remembered the original intention behind Bokuto’s visit - an intention with an expiration date, mainly monitored by Keiji himself. Ser Bokuto would leave as soon as the potion was finished, and there was no benefit to making him an integral contributor to the village community.

Ser Bokuto would leave, Keiji reminded themselves again, and that would be that. Their own feelings were surprising, certainly, although they was not unfamiliar with attraction - but this was more complicated than a short-lived affair with the butcher’s boy from the next town over. Keiji did not want to sit around and weep, avidly awaiting letters from the capital. They had little interest in a fling, either, although ser Bokuto was very pleasing to the eye.

“Akaashi!” Speak of the devil - the knight in question barged into Keiji’s shop, a smile already on his face. “How are the potions?”

“Brewing,” Keiji replied. They tilted their head in acknowledgement, looking at Bokuto.

“As they should,” Bokuto said graciously, then ruined the illusion by grinning. “And mine? It will be done tomorrow, right?”

Of course, Keiji was not the only one to remember Bokuto’s quest. “Right,” they said. “By noon tomorrow.”

“Splendid,” Bokuto said. “I think we’re having a party.”

“A party?” Keiji blinked.

“To wish me luck,” Bokuto clarified. “In my battle.”

“A party with wine and the like seems only detriment to your prowess in battle,” Keiji said, and Bokuto laughed.

“Perhaps,” he admitted. “But a coward’s courage is still courage. You’ll come?”

Keiji paused. Once the potion was in Bokuto’s hands, their exchange of services would be complete, and their professional relationship - their only relationship - would be terminated. On the other hand… Bokuto’s eyes were large and arresting as they met Keiji’s gaze, and he looked ready to pout and badger Keiji into agreeing. Before they had quite thought it through, Keiji found themselves nodding. “Very well,” they said.

Bokuto beamed. “Excellent! Would you like any help with anything around the shop?”

“No,” Keiji said. “But thank you. I’ve been meaning to ask… What is this potion for?”

“Oh,” Bokuto said, then laughed. He was flushing with embarrassment. “Ah… Remember when I first came to you?”

“Vaguely,” Keiji said dryly. “There were tears.”

“There were no tears!” Bokuto protested. “Anyway, I asked if you could make a potion strong enough to kill a dragon.”

“Which I have,” Keiji added.

“Exactly,” Bokuto said. He paused for effect.

When Keiji didn’t immediately react, he waved his arms around dramatically.

“Oh,” Keiji said finally. “You’re going to kill a dragon?”

“Yes,” Bokuto said. “I’m gonna try, at least!””

Oh, Keiji thought. It seems I’ve fallen in love with a complete idiot. “You’re going to try.. To kill a  _ dragon?” _

“It’s my mission,” Bokuto said. “I have a note from the king. It’s all very - I’m not meant to tell people… But you’re not people.”

“How romantic of you,” Keiji intoned, mind occupied on trying to grasp the situation at hand. Ser Bokuto would not be returning. Ever.

This, they had not imagined.

They did not doubt their own potions, nor did they doubt ser Bokuto’s prowess, but it was not a question of potency nor power. It was merely fact. A dragon had not been killed by a knight in centuries.

“I’ll be okay,” Bokuto said, but his reassuring tone fell flat. “I’m gonna do my best, and my best is astounding, you’ll see.”

“I know,” Keiji said, looking up at him briefly before looking away. “I have business to attend to. You’d best get going.”

Bokuto’s face fell, bottom lip sticking out almost comically, but Keiji wasn’t swayed. “Very well,” he said reluctantly. “But you’ll come to the party?”

Keiji nodded shortly. “I will. And you may come by and collect your potion tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here,” Bokuto promised, before bowing and taking his leave.

Keiji looked at the door as it shut, and they stood still for a long time.

**

Keiji went to the party. They stood by the side for the most part, and they watched Bokuto dance with the villagers - most of the children, and a few of the wives - but they couldn’t quite bring themselves to enjoy it. Knowing Bokuto’s fate, the event felt more like a wake than a celebration, and each sip of ale they drank tasted bitter, settling like stones in their stomach. 

“Dance with me?” Bokuto asked, voice and eyes both baleful, holding out his hand to Keiji in the most ridiculously grandiose manner. Keiji refused, twice, but even they were helpless to resist Bokuto’s persuasion, and eventually they too caved in.

That night, Keiji went to bed thinking of Bokuto’s warm hand around his waist, the feeling of Bokuto’s laughing breath on their neck, and the fact that tomorrow, all of those things would be gone for good.

When Keiji awoke the next morning, they had to take a second to catch their breath, the leaden feeling in their chest manifesting itself into a lack of air. Their toes curled beneath the sheets and they bit at their knees before calming themselves, eventually getting out of bed.

Today was a day like any other. Except...today was the day Keiji would see Bokuto to his death.

They lost themselves in routine. Collecting ingredients, checking the potions - Bokuto’s potion - and refilling their stock. They were so determined not to think that time flew by, and they didn’t notice Bokuto’s arrival until he was stood in front of them, tugging on their sleeve in a manner that was far too familiar for Keiji’s comfort.

“Akaashi, hey, is it ready?”

Keiji started, turning to face Bokuto - and he was too close, Keiji’s gaze wandering up his cheekbones to find his eyes. “It’s ready,” they replied, a little halting. It was just business, but Keiji didn’t want to give Bokuto the potion. They didn’t want to send him away, knowing that he wouldn’t return.

Even if he survived, he would be heading straight back to the city, ready to collect his next mission and go on adventures Keiji would never be a part of.

Bokuto clapped them on the shoulder. “Excellent! Here’s the rest of my payment.”

Keiji took it, frowning down at the gold in their hands before going into the back to put it away, stopping by the shelves of back storage to collect Bokuto’s potion. They held it tightly, pausing to take a deep breath and then re-entering the shop, offering it to him.

“Here,” they spoke quietly, but if Bokuto noticed the bitterness in their tone he didn’t comment, taking the potion eagerly from their hands and placing it in his satchel.

“Thanks, Akaashi! I’ll definitely be okay now,” he said, and the confidence in his voice was enough to make Keiji smile, if only weakly.

“Of course,” they said, keeping their voice as light as possible. Still, if this was going to be their goodbye… “I want you to know that I’ve enjoyed your custom, and I appreciate the help that you’ve offered to me during your wait.”

Bokuto beamed, eyes lighting up, and all Keiji could think was that they would miss that expression more than anything they owned.

“You’re very welcome. Speaking of…” Bokuto’s eyes held a gleam now, something almost hopeful, and Keiji’s brow furrowed, curious.

“Speaking of?”

“Speaking of my custom...that part of our relationship has come to an end now, hasn’t it? I’m not your customer.”

Keiji nodded toward the satchel that now held their - Bokuto’s - potion. “No, you’re not.”

Bokuto scuffed the toe of his boots on the floor, palms opened towards them. Like this, he seemed vulnerable, and Keiji was reminded of the fragile man they’d met on his first day in their shop. They wondered what he wanted.

After a couple of deep breaths, Bokuto stepped closer to Keiji, reaching for their hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing the knuckles. He spoke in a slow, measured tone.

“I was hoping that before I left, you might be inclined start a new relationship with me...something more intimate, perhaps?”

Keiji stared, shocked, eyes locked on where their knuckles were still millimeters away from Bokuto’s lips. It took them a moment to come up with a response.

“Did you rehearse that, ser Bokuto?” 

Bokuto blinked. “No...?”

Keiji paused, surprised, and regarded Bokuto with narrowed eyes. “You’re not usually so eloquent.”

Bokuto shrugged helplessly, biting his lip. “I’ve spent a lot of time considering it. I really want to…” he tailed off, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“To sleep with me?”

“Yes,” Bokuto said, expression determined, almost as though attempting to sleep with Keiji was a mission he’d been tasked with. He was still holding Keiji’s hand, and he used it to tug them closer, free fingers ghosting over Keiji’s hip. Keiji looked down at it, exhaling carefully before turning their head back up to meet Bokuto’s earnest gaze. “You’ve felt it, right? We have something.”

Keiji half-heartedly tried to shake themselves loose, dismissive. “Be that as it may…” they began, and then faltered. Bokuto’s grip on their hip tightened.

“What? There’s no reason why we shouldn’t. I’m not your customer anymore, you don’t have to worry about your integrity, and you’re  _ beautiful,  _ Akaashi, I’ve been thinking about this for so long…”

Keiji knew they didn’t want to say no. Bokuto’s fingers fit comfortably around their hip, and it wasn’t like they hadn’t contemplated what it would be like to have Bokuto in their bed before. 

“You're leaving,” Keiji said, a reminder to themselves as much as a statement to him. They stepped back, and Bokuto's face fell, pressing forward. 

“Tomorrow, not today, if you'll have me. I… I need this.”

“You need this?” It seemed to take a moment for Bokuto to register his own words, because when he heard them back from Keiji he stiffened, back straightening and blushing profusely. 

“For my battle! Virility in the bedroom breeds virility on the field,” he blustered, and it was all Keiji could do not to laugh at the absurdity of the logic. “You would be helping me, I would be able to leave courageous and strong. My heart would be lighter, and less of a burden to bear in battle.”

“I see,” Keiji said, amused. Bokuto missed their expression, and, having found his stride, continued, picking up in volume.

“There is nothing like good company and rousing sport to prepare for a battle, after all! If you would do me the honour of granting me your time, I think I would have the strength to fight the dragon without your potion - two dragons, even! Not that I’m not grateful for your potion, and of course I’m going to use it…”

“Calm down, ser,”  Keiji said, “The whole village will hear.”

“I am calm!” Bokuto all but shouted, his face red and flustered, “I just really want to spend more time with you!”

Oh. Oh, Keiji thought, biting down hard on their lower lip. Bokuto’s openness was going to be the death of them. He looked back at them, eyes wide and earnest and hopeful, and Keiji couldn’t help themselves. They stepped forward, reaching for the back of his neck to draw him close and down.

Their first kiss was chaste, Keiji’s lips pressing warmly against Bokuto’s, eyes gently closed. When they opened them, they saw that Bokuto hadn’t closed his, looking shocked.

“This was what you wanted, was it not?” Keiji asked, not removing their hand from where it cupped his neck. Bokuto nodded numbly.

“Yes - I just - I didn’t really dare to think that I’d  _ get _ it…” he said, and the wonder in his tone made Keiji laugh, a touch embarrassed.

“You’re too much for me,” they said, and brought him close again. This time, their kiss was deeper, and Bokuto’s hand cradled Keiji’s face, easing their lips apart with a surprising delicacy. When they parted, Keiji took Bokuto’s hand.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom,” they said, tugging on it, and Bokuto’s eager smile was all the response they needed.

*

Leading ser Bokuto up the stairs to the bedroom over their shop, Keiji felt a moment’s trepidation. They weren’t one to give their heart away easily - had, in fact, been accused of not having one by lovers in the past - but this felt dangerous, like an entirely new kind of exposure.

Bokuto did not let them have a moment to muse. He kissed them eagerly once the door was shut, pressing close, body just as insistent as his lips, his face, the amber eyes Keiji kept getting caught in.

“I have a secret,” Bokuto murmured into their lips, pulling back with reluctance. “I - my sex, um..”

Keiji blinked. They sat down on the bed, their hand still clasped in Bokuto’s. “Your sex?”

“It may not be - as expected,” Bokuto continued, looking around the room, not meeting Keiji’s eyes.

“Is it deformed?” Keiji asked plainly. “I have potions, remedies.. I’ve been visited by eunuchs before.”

“No, no! No, nothing like that, I - let me just show you,” Bokuto said quickly, and then he started stripping, swathes of garment falling off his figure. Keiji could do nothing but watch as he revealed miles of golden skin, drawn taut over muscles, and then ser Bokuto was standing bare in front of them, glorious in his nudity.

Between his legs was - nothing, Keiji thought at first, and then realised. “Oh,” they said softly, eyes roving over his figure.

“I hope that it is - acceptable,” Bokuto said haltingly, scratching over his scarred chest, criss-crossed with battle wounds. “I know you are of a similar.. persuasion, so I hope this isn’t too much of a.. surprise.”

“Come here,” Keiji said instead of replying, hand reaching out. Their hand made contact with the skin of Bokuto’s stomach, muscled and surprisingly smooth to the touch. “Thank you for trusting me.”

They looked up, catching the slack bow of Bokuto’s mouth and the soft look in his eyes as he gazed down at them, at where their hand was touching him. “You’re welcome,” he said quietly. “Thank you for trusting me too.”

Keiji smiled, a small, quick thing. “Now,” they said. “About this virility in the bedroom..”

Bokuto blinked and then laughed, full-bodied and hearty, and then they tumbled into bed, quickly becoming a tangle of limbs and kisses and warmth.

*

A hand running down their side woke Keiji up. They blinked, turning in bed to find Bokuto, hair falling into his eyes and lips twisted into a soft, sad smile. “I have to go,” he murmured.

Keiji raised their eyebrows. “Not even a good morning first?” they asked, but Bokuto barely entertained the joke, letting out a weak huff. Instead, he bent and kissed them, and Keiji opened their mouth, not caring about the acrid taste on their tongue. If this was to be their final kiss, they wanted it to last. They wrapped their arms around Bokuto, pulling him back down to lie with them. “You don't have any more time?” they asked, a little breathless, and Bokuto groaned, sitting up and straddling them. 

“A little,” he said, cheeks already flushed with arousal, reaching down to steady Keiji’s cock and sink down onto it.

*

Breakfast was hurried and odd in mood, Bokuto moving between joking about the soreness between his legs to staring hard into the distance as he chewed his bread. Keiji didn't say much - they didn't know what to say, nor whether they should say anything at all. They would miss him, but they would get by.

That was all there was to it.

Still, as the entire village stood to wave goodbye, ser Bokuto laden with food, equipment and presents from the children, Keiji couldn't help but feel a twinge in their chest. 

They'd miss him more than they quite wanted to admit. Ser Bokuto looked almost regal where he sat, mounted on his horse, sunlight catching in his hair like a makeshift crown.

"He's quite the sight, eh," Rika said beside them, admiring ser Bokuto. "It's a shame to see him go."

"It is," Keiji agreed.

Bokuto found their eyes and nodded, head lowering in a small bow. Keiji returned the gesture, the pain in their chest sharpening.

"Maybe he'll come back," Rika said optimistically, hand raised to wave.

Keiji couldn't bear to answer, sudden sorrow sealing their lips as they watched Bokuto ride away.

**

A month passed. Keiji tried not to waste their time in waiting; did not want to fill their days with unfulfilled hopes, but they couldn’t help the way their head now jerked up whenever someone entered their shop. They didn’t know what they were expecting - whether it was news of him or Bokuto himself walking through the door, but the disappointment weighed on them, and they fell into a foul humour.

They did not want to visit the village anymore. The school and the town hall reminded them too much of Bokuto, and everyone there had formed a relationship with him, relating Keiji to him in the same way that they had come to themselves. The first time they went down the hill, dropping off an ointment for Haru, he’d clapped them on the shoulder, a gesture of friendliness Keiji had never received from the villagers before.

“Any news of the young knight?” Haru asked, and Keiji stiffened.

“No,” they said shortly. “He hasn’t been gone long.”

“Of course,” was Haru’s reply, and there was a soft sympathy in his tone, something that set Keiji on edge. “I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon.”

Keiji shrugged Haru’s hand off him. “I doubt it,” they said, the words catching in their throat. “If he survives he’ll be going to the capital. I don’t expect he’ll pay our small part of the world any heed.”

“Now, you know that’s not true,” Haru began, and Keiji looked at him sharply.

“Isn’t it?”

“No,” Haru said, his tone more stern this time, “and I think it’s mighty disrespectful of you to say so. Everyone here knew how he felt about you, Akaashi. Even if he didn’t tell you, you must have guessed.”

“...He told me,” Keiji admitted after a moment’s hesitation.

“Then you know he’ll be back,” Haru told them. He didn’t say  _ if he makes it. _ Keiji didn’t respond, pressing the ointment into his hands and leaving without a word.

They didn’t go down to the village for a long time after that. The villagers could collect their remedies from the shop.

Around three weeks after ser Bokuto left, an envoy from the capital came to Keiji's shop. Keiji heard about it before he arrived, because Rika had ran up the hill to tell them. They thanked her for the information, feigning disinterest, but by the time the envoy arrived their heart was pounding. 

The envoy made no small talk, introducing himself as Tendou Satori and launching into the business arrangement he wanted to forge between Keiji’s shop and the palace.

“...as you’re well aware, your potions are some of the strongest in the kingdom, and I’m sure we can work out an agreement that would be beneficial to both of us…”

“Hm,” Keiji said, hardly listening. “I was wondering, have you heard anything of a knight from the capital? Ser Bokuto, his name is.”

Tendou hummed. “I don’t know the name of every knight around the palace. There are too many of them.”

“This knight was sent to kill a dragon around a month ago. I’m sure, if he’s been victorious, that you would have heard.”

Tendou laughed, and the sound made Keiji flinch. “No, I haven’t heard. And the prospect of anyone killing a dragon is quite preposterous. A dragon? No one has slain one in centuries, he’ll have been burnt to a crisp.”

Something inside Keiji snapped. They came out from behind the counter of their shop, pushing harshly at Tendou, face contorted with fury.

“Get out,” they demanded. Tendou stood his ground, alarmed.

“But what about our arrangement?”

“My potions are too strong for you,” Keiji said fiercely, shoving at him with a strength they didn’t know they had, “And too strong for the Crown Prince too. Tell Ushijima he has to find a seller with weaker potions!”

Keiji pushed Tendou out of their shop, slamming the door behind them and resting against it, breaths coming in short, rapid bursts. They sank to the floor, burying their head in their knees, and it was only then that they realised they were shaking.

Tendou was wrong. They refused to believe anything else.

**

Keiji was mindlessly stirring a potion when the door opened with a bang, Rika’s son standing in the doorway, panting hard and cheeks flushed with exertion. “Akaashi! Akaashi, he’s back - ser Bokuto, Bokuto’s back!”

Keiji stood up so fast the blood rushed to their head. “What,” they said weakly.

“Ser Bokuto’s back!” Rika’s son shouted.

“Stop shouting,” Keiji said, but their voice faltered. “Where…?”

“In the town square! He’s waiting for you!”

“For -” Keiji started. Rika’s son made a loud, annoyed noise and wrapped his small hand around Keiji’s wrist, tugging them with him, making Keiji stumble when he started running.

“Come on! Mom asked him if he wanted something and he said all he wanted was to see you!”

“Let me go, then, so I can run!”

“Okay!” 

They ran side by side, Rika’s son shouting the occasional order for Keiji to hurry up. They would have a stern talking to his mother, they decided, in the small part of their brain that wasn’t occupied by ser  _ Bokuto _ , he was back, but - this had to be a trick, some jape the kids were playing on them, and they’d fallen for it, hook, line and sinker -

Keiji stopped just before turning the corner to the town square, heaving for breath. They reached out, stopping Rika’s son and holding his arm tightly. “This is no joke.”

“No, it’s not! I promise, it’s not, please don’t poison me!”

“I’m not about to poison you,” Keiji said, letting him go and straightening up. They’d lost a sandal on the run, and their hat was crumpled in their hands, wrung in anxiety. Their hair had to be a mess, and their face… this was no state to meet the knight in, he’d take one look at them and turn back when they weren’t the waiting beauty he’d pictured.

“Akaashi, um, ma’am, he really wants to see you, please turn the corner.”

Keiji swallowed, running their fingers through their hair and putting their hat on their head. “Run along,” they said, and turned the corner to see the town square.

It was so crowded that it took a second for their eyes to find ser Bokuto, dirty and hunch-backed as he was. He looked wounded, but not fatally so, still standing on two feet without ample support. Keiji made their way through the crowd before Bokuto spotted them - when he did, his face lit up and he stood straighter, bearing no mind to the pain it surely brought him. “Keiji,” he breathed, before clearing his throat. “I mean, Akaashi, hello -”

_ “Koutarou,”  _ Keiji said, voice cracking, and then they were in each other's arms, embracing so tightly it couldn't be good for ser Bokuto's wounds - Keiji knew this, and yet they couldn't let go, clamoring to Bokuto's form and feeling every inch of him. He was  _ alive,  _ alive and healthy enough to stand in front of Keiji, scruffy-looking and with a smile so wide it outshone the sun. “You came back.”

“Of course I came back!” Koutarou laughed, raspy with emotion. “I had to. I came here before I went to the capital - technically I'm not even finished with my quest -  _ mwph -” _

Keiji kissed him, hard and clumsy, holding him close again. Koutarou took a moment to relax, his hands falling back to Keiji's waist and his lips moving against theirs, softening and slowing the kiss. It took Keiji a beat to realise the noise in their ears wasn't the drum of their heart nor their pulse racing, but applause. They pulled back and saw the rest of the villagers watching the two of them, some of them clapping happily, others whistling and cheering. Rika was subtly wiping her face.

Koutarou grinned widely, his ears flushing. “Thank you! Wow, thank you so much, everyone, I’m really grateful, I’m so glad I came back to see all of you - and Keiji, of course - ah, ow, ow, gentle -”

Keiji stopped pulling him away, gentling their grip on his tunic before starting again. “You’re all a bunch of gossips,” they told the villagers. “I have private business to go over with ser Bokuto.”

“Private business!” one of the youngsters shouted gleefully, just old enough to be fascinated with the notion. Keiji didn’t deign to reply, although Koutarou laughed again as they walked away.

“You look like a mess,” he told them. “Where’s your sandal?”

“You’re one to speak! Are you injured? Are you whole? Did the potion affect you in any way?”

“Nothing lethal,” Koutarou said airily after a moment’s hesitation, facade ruined by a flinch as he tried to lengthen his step. “Just… annoying. But the potion did exactly as you said it would, Keiji, and as you can see, I’m perfectly fine.”

“I’ll have a look at your wounds once we get in,” Keiji said firmly, starting to head up the hill to their house.

“Keiji…” Koutarou stopped, hand around their wrist to hold them back.

“What?”

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.”

“No… thank you. Thank you for waiting.”

Keiji paused and then looked at Koutarou’s face, at his soft, tentative smile. “You’re welcome,” they said finally, the words inadequate to convey anything but a tenth of their emotion. “I couldn’t not.”

Koutarou’s hand fell from their wrist to tangle their fingers together, squeezing their hand. “Just like I couldn’t not return.”

Keiji smiled, looking up at the sky to hide it. “Thank you,” they said, and Koutarou squeezed their hand again.

*

As soon as they got in the door, Keiji ordered Koutarou to strip.

“I’m afraid I’m too injured for that,” Koutarou started. Keiji smacked his arm gently, pulling him with them into their bedroom and making him sit on the bed.

“Let me see your wounds,” they said firmly.

Koutarou gave them a nervous smile. “Shouldn’t I just go to the village nurse…?”

“For remedies or medicine, both of which I make, you mean?” Keiji said, and Koutarou slumped.

“Very well,” he said, and pulled off his shirt with halting movements, helped by Keiji after a moment. His skin was just as tan as Keiji remembered, and his muscles just as impressive, but that wasn’t what caught their gaze now. There was a burn over his shoulder, massive and intimidating, making Keiji bite their lip when they saw it.

“I have relieving ointment,” they started, fingers brushing over the bruises and cuts scattered across Koutarou’s chest, voice trailing off as they touched what felt like dry skin and Koutarou twitched away, grimacing. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Koutarou said immediately, defensively covering his side with his arm. “I’m in a lot of pain.”

“Then show me. I can’t help you unless I know what to treat, Koutarou.”

“I don’t think you can treat this,” Koutarou said quietly, and Keiji frowned deeply, taking his arm and pulling it away from his side, ignoring his yelps of pain.

“Ow, ow, Keiji, please,” Koutarou pleaded, trying again to flinch away, “I don’t want you to see, you’ll think I’m -”

“What are these?” Keiji asked, fingers pressing lightly against the odd formation Koutarou’s skin had taken to, a palm-sized bruise over his ribs.

“...disgusting,” Koutarou finished, wilting.

“Are they scales?”

“I think so,” Koutarou said after a pause, voice small. “I only noticed - after the battle, there was so much…”

Keiji studied the scales, chipping at them with their nail to no avail. They were hard to the touch, like scar tissue. “Do they hurt?”

“No.”

Keiji paused, sitting back. “It may be a side effect,” they said finally. “Of my potion. I - Koutarou, I’m so sorry.”

“Really?” Instead of despairing, Koutarou sounded relieved, sitting up. “So it’s not… some kind of infection?”

“No, it seems - harmless, for the moment, but it’s not… I’m very, very sorry.”

“Keiji, it’s perfectly alright,” Koutarou said, reaching for their hand. “It was this or die, I’d much rather have…”

“Scales?”

Koutarou winced. “Well, it’s not  _ ideal, _ certainly, but I’m already physically… unconventional.”

“Someone has to supervise these,” Keiji said, fingers stroking over his ribs. Now that they knew it didn’t hurt, they felt free to get used to the sensation, even as it strengthened the burden of guilt on their shoulders.

“No, no, that’s - I’ll be perfectly fine on my own, Keiji, I promise.”

“Someone,” Keiji said again, moving their head to look up at him, “has to look after you.”

“Don’t make me go to some two-bit physician in the capital, Keiji…”

Keiji sighed, exasperated, and sat up. “I meant myself, Koutarou.”

“Oh,” Koutarou said, eyes widening with realisation, and then he grinned. “Oh! Yes! In that case, they definitely need to be supervised. Intimately. Several times a day.”

Keiji snorted. “Don’t push it,” they said, and Koutarou’s smile softened, leaning into them gently.

“I was meaning to ask you to accompany me to the capital anyway, you know. I’ve missed you… unbearably so.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Keiji said softly, eyes tracing a cut on Koutarou’s cheek before flicking up to meet the amber gaze they’d missed so dearly. “Very much.”

Koutarou kissed them, just as soft as his smile, and Keiji hesitated before reciprocating, mindful of his injuries.

“We will stay here until you recover, however. I need time to prepare for a leave of absence. I haven’t abandoned my shop since it was opened.”

“Wow,” Koutarou said, smile widening. “I’m honoured you’d do such a thing for me.”

Keiji shrugged, not deigning to answer as their ears warmed.

“That’s good, anyhow - I need to catch up with everyone here. I haven’t only missed you, although I’ve missed you the most.”

“You already said so,” Keiji said.

“Doesn’t make it any less true,” Koutarou said, kissing them chastely again. “I’ll tell you as many times as I please.”

“We’ll see about that,” Keiji murmured, and Koutarou laughed, wrapping one arm around them to hold them close. “Careful of your injuries…!”

“Yes, yes, mother,” Koutarou said amiably. “Do I not get to hug my lover after many days of painful separation?”

“We hugged earlier,” Keiji said, shifting away to put as little weight on Koutarou’s wounds as possible.

“Still…!” Koutarou said, and when he pulled Keiji close again, Keiji didn’t resist, instead wrapping their arms gently around him and resting their head on his uninjured shoulder, closing their eyes and breathing him in.

“Thank you for coming back,” they said quietly, even though they had already said so before.

“You’re welcome,” Koutarou said this time, sounding sincere, cradling Keiji’s back in calloused, scraped-up arms. “I’m glad I could.”

**Author's Note:**

> kastron: [tumblr](http://fukurokeiji.tumblr.com) | [twitter](http://twitter.com/kastronetic)  
> keptein: [tumblr](http://tivruskis.tumblr.com) | [twitter](http://twitter.com/tivruskis)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [where the love-light gleams](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9076681) by [dicaeopolis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicaeopolis/pseuds/dicaeopolis)




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